


One of the Living

by thebitchesofdathomir



Series: Who Killed the World? [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: And I'm a hoe for apocalypse nonsense, Ben is 21, Ben is his usual conflicted self, But also angry Ben Solo, But he's still Ben, But it all happened so fast, But these are just Mad Max flavored, Chewie is a dog, Even though I do not in any way view Chewie as Han's pet, F/M, I don't know how to tag properly, I wasn't gonna write it, I'm going to pretend I know how to write fight scenes and that I know shit about cars, Inspired by Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max AU, Mortis is Valhalla, Protective Reylo, Rey is 19, So here we are, Soft Ben Solo, The First Order is the Citadel, The next one will be more Fury Road-ish than this one is, This is part one of a series, Title literally based on Tina Turner's opening song from Thunderdome, Virgin Ben Solo, Virgin Rey, When we all know I can't even parallel park, depictions of blood, depictions of violence, no force, not like exclusively the same story, post-apocalyptic Earth, summary sucks as usual, that just about sums it up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 17:36:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18266165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebitchesofdathomir/pseuds/thebitchesofdathomir
Summary: Everything changes for Ben Solotansky when he flees from his life long home of Takodana, the only green place the world has left to offer. He finds himself and his father captured and forced into a world of fire, blood, and guzzoline. It is a gruesome and unforgiving existence among the survivors and the many sadistic creatures that thrive in the wastelands, profiting on the world's death to fuel their empire.As much as Ben hates it, he believes it is what he deserves for the horror he's caused. For the monster he knows himself to be. Because he's come to understand that the living envy the dead.But after he meets a girl named Rey, Ben begins to feel, for the first time, something other than resentment and pain. She helps him realize he wants to be one of the living.





	1. The Scorned Son

Ben wakes when he always does.

It’s early, before dawn and the last coolness of the night will soon fade. It’s why he knows he needs to get up now. But his body refuses and admittedly, his mind does too.

Every day, for what seems to be forever, he wakes at this time and helps to keep their home in order so their sanctuary is not compromised by the unforgiving hell that had been unleashed on all of the Earth. Unleashed everywhere but Takodana.

Or especially Takodana. Ben can hardly tell. 

Takodana is where he’s lived all his life. He was born here. A place of green among the endless sands and hidden from the raiding parties and foul creatures that seem to have risen beneath the Earth itself.

Only survivors dwell now. The only other people Ben has ever met have tried to kill him. He has every reason to be thankful and content within this sanctuary.

And yet, he curses it.

He hates waking up. He hates to see he made it through the night. All he has to live for is the thought that one day he might die and this endless torture might be over.

Every day is a similar routine. Ben keeps to himself, only occasionally crossing paths with the others. Ben speaks to Maz at mealtimes and she’s always nice. Sometimes his mother was there, talking with Maz or asking him how he was. She didn’t really engage with him anymore though. Ben knows she doesn’t know what to say and neither does he.

Han, his father, was usually around. Mostly in the garage or occasionally helping with some of the crops. Sometimes, if they hear or see trouble they needed to do patrols and make sure the perimeter was secure from people trying to loot or invade. But they never rode together anymore. Ben took his bike and Han drove the Falcon.

His father never offers if he wants to drive anymore. Ben knows Han doesn’t want to ride with him.

Aside from these rare encounters, they don’t speak very often. If any dialogue starts up between them, it usually ends in shouting and Leia shows up, telling them to step away from each other.

And then there was Luke. Luke somehow avoided him completely. Hell, it seemed he avoided everybody. Ben knew Maz and Leia probably spoke with him often or brought him meals when he didn’t come out of his hut.

But Ben didn’t care what happened to him. He doesn’t care if he dies in his sleep or starves to death. As far as Ben was concerned, Luke was dead to him.

So, naturally, out of all of the candidates, the dog was the best listener.

Ben feels lost. Within this supposed sanctuary, he only feels imprisoned. It is a difficult feeling to know you live in likely the best last place the world has to offer and somehow feel empty. When you know that nowhere else on the planet is as good as this and to still feel lost, there can only be something wrong with the person.

Ben knows there’s something wrong with him. That’s been made clear by how he behaves and how his family treats him and it makes him want to leave.

He also knows he lives in a world where what a person _wants_ was no longer relevant. He lived in a world where only the survivors get by. Only by what you need and what keeps you alive is what matters.

Ben knows that. His own experiences of such hardships etched forever on his mind. So why does he still _want_ when he knows it’s hopeless?

He knows the true son of his parents would have appreciated this. A good son wouldn’t find a way to despise everything good they’ve given him.

But he’s Ben. And Ben seems to only ever focus on the bad.

Regardless of all the reasons he doesn’t want to, he swings his feet over the side of the bed and groans, knowing the day will only make the gaping void within him grow emptier. He stands, getting dressed and making his way outside. Chewie finds him then, chasing after him and greeting him happily, nudging his nose against Ben’s palm. Chewie somehow still had the temperament of a young pup when he was, in fact, an old dog. Over fifteen years at least.

“Morning,” Ben mutters to the dog. Simply ‘Morning,’ because he can’t imagine what a good one would be.

* * *

Ben steps into the main hut where he knows Maz is making breakfast. She’s in the same spot every morning, regardless of how late or early Ben arrives. She greets him as always, with a smile. “Hello, Junior,” she says, passing him a bowl of rice.

She always calls him that. Since he was a kid. 

“Hi, Maz,” he says, thanking her for the food. He sees an empty bowl in the space beside him and he knows that Luke has already come and gone. He likely left in a rush when he saw Ben coming in.

When Ben was younger, Luke and he did everything together. Luke had been something of a martial arts master and had trained a number of fighters that were still interested in such a dated form of fighting. Of course, over time, the skills became relevant again. Not so dated and unnecessary as the skills come in handy in a world such as this.

During the oil wars, before the world really died and his parents held out hope, trying to fight their cause, Luke had trained many. But at the height of the world’s destruction, many were killed and his parents had the only choice of running far away where they knew they would be safe. His mother was pregnant with him at the time and Maz had promised his parents and uncle sanctuary in Takodana.

It was here he was raised. And although it was once home to many, at least Ben is told it was, it was now only familiar to the five of them. It seems like no one was left in this world had any awareness of its existence.

So, they had to keep it that way.

It was why Luke had trained Ben since he was young. They had been close. It was because of this training and this knowledge that Ben supposes his head is still on his shoulders.

 _But perhaps I’d be better off without it_ , Ben says to himself.

“What are you up to today, junior?” Maz asks him suddenly and Ben looks up again.

“The usual, I guess. Are you on the fields today?”

“Always.”

“I’ll come with you," he tells her and she smiles at him. Maz is getting pretty old. As much as she insisted she could carry everything and work all day, Ben wanted to be there to help her.

“You don’t have to, junior.”

“I want to,” he lies. He doesn’t want to be out in the field, but he would rather do that then stick around and by chance come across his father. That and he thinks it would be best if Maz had a companion. She’s talking to herself a little too much and it’s beginning to show.

She always claimed her seeds kept her sane and Takodana’s health was their main priority if this world was to have any hope left.

But she also talked to hedgehogs as if they were divine beings. She claimed they saw the future and told her their secrets only because she listened. Whenever she tried to lecture him on listening to hedgehogs, he nodded politely but was more concerned on her grasp on reality, or lack of it. It’s all too much sun, too much silence, and maybe too many hedgehogs.

_You talk to Chewie._

_That’s different,_ Ben tells himself.

_And you talk to yourself._

_Fuck off._

As Ben finishes the rice and thanks Maz, he leaves. Chewie follows him after licking clean his own bowl.

He walks along, headed for the fields when he spots his parents.

Actually, he hears them before he sees them.

They’re arguing again. Although contact between all of them was minimal, the words exchanged between the couple were short and tempered. _Pissed_ seemed to be the most appropriate word for it.

He wonders how they ever agreed on anything. Like getting married or having him. It all seemed like things that would never happen but they did.

He can’t make out what they’re saying now but he doesn’t want to. He trudges forward, ignoring them. Chewie brings him a stick and for a few minutes, he just pretends he’s still a kid playing with his dog.

And even though Ben hasn’t been a child for a while now, at the ripe old age of twenty-one, he wonders if, in a world like this, anyone could ever really be a _kid_.

* * *

 At dusk, Ben had snuck out to the garages where his bike was being kept as well as Maz's Epoch Swift, the Tua Lu, Luke's X-cruiser, and several other motorbikes. All of them seemingly pushed to the side to frame his father’s prized Millenium Falcon. 

Wherever it got that name, Ben is unsure. It’s not the make of the car. The Falcon was a hodgepodge mutt of several different cars. Even to call it the name of the body or original manufacturer would be wrong. It’s something else entirely. Most of it wasn't even Han's work. It's been through too many owners to count, all of which have done their own custom jobs too.

It’s the car that brought them here so many years ago when Han only had a hunch of where he was going, trying to navigate the harsh sands. Ben hadn’t been born yet but Leia had told him many times of how they got here. One of their bedtime stories.

Ben checks over his bike, but his attention wanders back over to the Falcon. As much as he should appreciate such a car, he finds himself almost spiteful towards it. Han treasured it more than anything. This old piece of junk that somehow hasn’t died and sputtered out in the sands on the many patrol runs they’ve gone on.

And although it is the car Ben first learned to drive in, Han won’t let him touch it anymore. Not after everything that's happened. 

But his father isn’t around now. 

Ben pops the hood, his hands simply running over the mechanics ever so gently.

And as if the man had a telepathic connection to this machine, his father steps in, scaring the shit out of him.

“What are you doing?” Han snaps.

 _Fuck_ , Ben thinks to himself. He thought he had a little more time before Han came snooping around.

“How many times have I told you not to touch that engine?”

Ben rolls his eyes. He’s turned away from his father, but Han sighs anyway. As if he could see through the back of his head.

  
“I was just going to check her over. An engine this old needs upkeep.”

“Maybe...but leave that to me. It’s my car.”

Ben turns around this time to scowl at him. “You don’t trust me? You think I don’t know what I’m doing?”

Han shakes his head. “You _don’t know_ what you’re doing. She's not like any other engines. She’s a mongrel of parts all wedged together to make a one of a kind automobile so don't pretend like you know what to do.”

“I’m not a child anymore. I’m not as incompetent as you want to believe I am.”

“You’re right. You’re not a child, you’re a man. So you should know by now that when I tell you not to touch my shit, you listen! This car is the only one I got and I don’t want you fucking it up.”

Ben fumes, stepping away from the engine. “As far as sons go, the same could be said for me. Only I’m already pretty fucked up, aren’t I?”

“Ben-” Han sighs.

“Fuck you,” he says before Han can say anything back. He stomps out of the garage and back to his own hut. Chewie still follows Ben. When he hears Han call and whistle for the dog to return to the garage, Chewie stays close to his side, nudging his palm with his nose as always.

Ben has to admit that he gets no small amount of enjoyment to know the dog prefers him. Chewie told Han to fuck off in his own way.

* * *

Ben is sitting on the edge of his bed, his elbows on his knees as his foot bounces up and down. His boots are still on and he’s fully clothed. Chewie is sleeping on the floor, moaning in his sleep. His paws twitching as if he was running in his dreams.

_Running._

The amount of times Ben has thought that word in the past few hours is absurd.

It was a horrible idea. Doomed. It would only be met with death.

But for some reason, it isn’t enough to dissuade him. If anything, it encourages him. Anything besides this place he was too unworthy to claim residence of. Anything besides this place that only reminded him of what a disgrace he was.

It seems obvious at this point that the prison Ben believed himself to be in was not just his own. It seemed as if everyone here, with the likely exception to Maz, was as miserable as he was, but nobody said anything. They all just looked to the past and thought of him as if he was the one who had brought this apocalypse upon them.

Maybe they were no better off than the pitiful souls that had to scavenge the desert for days in hopes of finding water. Maybe that’s the kind of life Ben was supposed to be living. A life full of pain and exhaustion. At least it would give him something to do. And in that life, he could only disappoint himself.

How refreshing that would be. And how disturbing that it appeals to him. He must be truly mad. 

Maybe waking up to endless dunes, possibly finding his death from a bullet or dehydration would be less painful than waking up and seeing the pity from his mother’s eyes or the absolute foreign gaze from his father that Ben couldn’t even decipher anymore. The completely absent but undoubted disgust he would see in his uncle’s eyes.

This would all be better for everyone if he was gone.

And if not forever, at least he could just get some space to breathe for a little while, Ben tells himself, but he knows well enough he won’t be coming back. This hasn’t been his home for a long time.

Quietly, Ben rises to his feet, pulling out his pens and hastily writing out a letter for them to find. It's a mess for sure, only the moonlight to illuminate the parchment. He tries to keep it short and concise. He reads it over quickly before laying it on the bed. He rises then, beginning to pack a bag, cautious not to wake the dog that would only compromise him if he woke.

He grabs his canteen, bread, grains of rice, and half a dozen books. Books he must have read a thousand times and will likely read a thousand times more.

As he brings the bag around his shoulders, he picks up his gun from where it was leaning against the wall close to his bed. With his supplies on his back and a half-coherent amount of determination, Ben makes his way to the garage and pulls out his motorcycle. He packs on a fair amount of gas to the back to fuel him forward but not enough to deplete his father’s resources.

Ben walks the bike a fair distance away before he actually hops on and starts it, wondering even then if it was too loud and the sound was carried.

Regardless if they heard it or not, he doesn’t look back. He speeds away on the familiar dirt path until it gradually becomes coarse and disgraceful sand.

 _Coarse and disgraceful,_ Ben huffs to himself. As much as he detests sand, he thinks they have a lot in common.

* * *

Maz jolts up from a terrible dream, breathing heavily as she brings a hand to her old heart. “Ben,” she whispers out into the solitude of her hut. Realizing no one could hear her, she jumps out of bed and flees to Ben’s hut. All the time calling his name.

There is no answer. All she can hear is Chewie’s frantic barking as he joins her in the search for the boy.

The three others awaken from the ordeal and rush out in their nightclothes. “What the hell is going on?” Han asks. He rushes over to the dog, trying to calm him down but he just whimpers, speeding off towards the garage.

The others chase after him as Han pulls the doors open. They see the Falcon where it always is, but the place where Ben’s bike should be is empty.

Absolutely empty.

“Holy shit,” Luke breathes out, unsure of what else to say. “He’s going to get himself killed.”

Leia bursts into tears, knowing as insensitive it sounded, Luke was right.

She also knows that as ruthless and resigned as her son appeared to be, his heart was good and the wastelands had a way of ripping every ounce of good out of a person.

Han storms out of the garage, muttering under his breath. “No, he’s not. I’m going after him.”

Maz pulls on his arm. “Is that wise, Han? Would he really wish to speak to you after what was said?”

Han looks at her, bewildered. “How did you...No, he wouldn’t.” Han ignores for now how she knows of their exchange, knowing they had to act quick. “But he left because of me. I can make this right. I just need to talk to him. I’ll apologize.”

Leia stomps over now, grabbing him by his shirt collar. “What did you say to him?”

Han sighs, shaking his head, “Do we have to do this now? With every minute he’s getting a mile further from here. I need to go...alone.”

“Fine…” Leia steps away, drying her eyes. “Go!”

Han loads up into the Falcon with Chewie whining in the passenger seat. Han is completely frazzled as he peels out of the garage, slowing down when he sees his wife waiting for him. She leans into the window as she speaks in a tone he rarely hears from her.

It’s been many years since he's heard her so afraid.

“I have a horrible feeling, Han.” She’s shaking.

  
“It’s okay. I’m not going to let him go,” he tells her honestly. Her lip quivers and without thinking, Han leans out of the window, kissing his wife on the lips for the first time in months. Maybe longer. “I’m sorry, Leia.”

She nods slowly. “Just bring our son home.”

“I will.”

As Leia watches her husband speed away, she feels her brother's arm reach around her shoulders, holding her close.

“He’ll find him, Leia. Ben will return.”

Leia desperately hopes he’s right.

* * *

Ben rides all through the night, many miles from home. Ben doesn’t know how many though. He’s busy trying to ignore the distant sound of a familiar engine following him. He hoped if he rode far enough, his father would just give up and turn around. But as the darkness of night relents and the bluish glow of dawn washes over the sands, Ben knows Han won’t stop until he speaks with him.

Ben figures if he spoke to him now, he might convince Han to turn around and leave him be. Maybe he could get him to understand and they could just quietly go their separate ways.

Ben props the kickstand and hops off the bike, waiting for him, knowing he’s been following his tracks.

For once, he chooses to face his father and whatever wrath that comes with it. It will not sway his decision to keep going.

Or so Ben tells himself.

* * *

 Eventually, the Falcon stops about twenty feet away from him and instantly Chewie leaps out of the window, charging for Ben. Ben shakes his head, petting the dog. “It hasn’t even been that long you dope,” he whispers to the dog so his father wouldn’t hear.

Ben looks up when he hears the door open. He sees only the shape of him at first but as he steps closer, Ben is faced with the frightened form of his father.

_Frightened._

Ben doesn't remember the last time he had seen anything other than disappointment in his countenance.

“What are you doing, Ben?” Han asks him, his voice quiet. Ben honestly doesn’t know what to say to him. His tone throws him off guard.

_Why didn’t he sound angry?_

Ben struggles to answer. Ben knows what he’s doing, but it’s harder to say. And yet, all he can answer with is, “I needed some air, dad. I had to leave.”

“Leave? Ben, the wastelands are literal hell. This isn't a place to retreat to when you want to prove a point. It’s a place you go to die.” Han’s usual tone of condescension starts to emerge and Ben feels defensive again.

  
“Maybe that’s why I left,” Ben counters.

Han looks horrified. “Don’t say stuff like that.”

“What do you want me to say? I’m telling you the truth. I know that’s our ‘home’ but it doesn't feel like it. I feel like every day it kills me a little bit more and I just have to grit my teeth and pretend like we all still love each other and we aren’t miserable. Like you all don’t hate me for what I did and who I’ve become.”

Han is quiet for a moment. Ben thought he might have tried to deny it at first, but he doesn’t. Probably because he knows it’s true.

“We do not hate you, Ben!” Han says, shaking his head. He’s quiet again, only for a moment. “We are pretty miserable though, aren’t we?” Han says looking down. Although it was posed as a question, Ben knows it isn’t directed to him. It seemed like he was admitting it to himself.

“I hate waking up every morning. If I’m doomed to die out here, then at least I won’t have to wake up anymore.”

“Fuck, Ben, take it easy. You’re just a kid.”

“No, I’m not,” Ben tells him again. They just had this discussion earlier and already his father seems to claim he’s a child again.

Han sighs again, “No. I guess you’re not.” He crosses his arms, looking down at his boots. “But please just come back. We can talk it through and maybe...Maybe we could try to be better. I know I haven’t been the best father, but you’re my son and I don’t want you to think you deserve to die out here. I didn’t...I didn’t know you were so at war with yourself, Ben.”

Ben wishes he hated his father. He wishes he was unattached and able to just ride for days and never look back. But his emotions tear him apart and he hardly knows what he wants anymore. He doesn’t know what will fill the gap in his chest. He only knows it grows wider by the day.

Ben straightens up, stepping forward, considering approaching his father. He’s a few inches taller than him now and Han looks up at him with scared eyes.

Ben's brows twitch, surprised at the emotion from his father.

_Why did it take having to run away for him to finally notice me?_

Ben is about to speak when suddenly, Chewie barks at something, speeding off over the next dune.

“Chewie!” Both Ben and Han shout, chasing after him.

It’s hard to sprint fast in the soft sands of the dune but Ben is determined as he hears Chewie whimper in pain. He fears the worst, wondering if the skinwolves had found him. “Chewie?” Ben shouts again. As he comes over the peak of the dune, he sees the dog writhing in a net, and a dark figure holding him down.

“Hey!” Ben shouts, beginning to charge forward when somebody holds him back but it isn’t his father. Ben turns and is faced with a Tusken Raider. A buzzard. A selfish creature who lived among the sands.

And before Ben could do anything, he is struck in the head and he falls to the sand, blackness overcoming him.

Faintly, Ben thinks he hears his father calling his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do we think? How do we feel? Yarp or narp?
> 
> What do you think Benny boi did that made everybody so mad and distant?


	2. The Mysterious Savior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben realizes that as much distance he might have been looking to get from his father, in no way was he looking for what has come to them now. He didn't want his father to suffer in the way Ben knows was only meant for himself.
> 
> And somebody shows up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I don't like to just jump into something without knowing exactly where it's going to go, but I posted the first chapter rather spontaneously, fueled by the ideas I had going at the time. A lot of those ideas have changed since then so I feel really unorganized. Not sure if that was the best idea to just rip into this one but I've already committed a ridiculous amount of time to this so I can't turn back now, lol.
> 
> This story is part one of a two-part series, which admittedly, I've planned more of the sequel at this point than the current story so I'm hitting a lot of snags. I feel like after the hurdle of the first few chapters, it may start to get interesting. 
> 
> So, fair warning, this chapter isn't my favorite, but I think it works well enough for where we're headed so fuck it, let's go.

Ben wakes up to Chewie’s whimpering.

His head is pounding and shuts his eyes tight to remain in darkness. The brutal sunlight peeking through the cracks of what seems to be a trailer.

He was in a fucking trailer.

His hands move to cover his face but he finds they are bound behind his back, just as his ankles are in rusty shackles.

_What the fuck was happening?_

Ben’s heart picks up as everything comes flooding back at once. He left Takodana but was captured in a matter of hours by some buzzards. And his father-

_His father!_

Ben snaps his head around and sees Han lying still in the opposite corner. “Dad!” Ben shouts over, hoping to wake him up. “Dad, can you hear me? Wake up!”

Han doesn’t budge.

“Fuck,” Ben breathes out, knowing that the Tuskens must have shoved them in here for a reason, as opposed to killing them. They were being kept alive for something.

And whatever it was, it was bad.

Ben sees Chewie at the end of the trailer. His bike is there too, but the bags he packed were no longer on it. They must have thrown it back here, maybe not having enough drivers. He had only seen two figures when they were taken.

Frantic and worried, unsure if his father was even breathing, Ben starts to pull and twist his wrists, trying to get free of the binds. He stops suddenly though when he realizes he hears the familiar engines revving just beyond the walls of the rusty trailer.

The Falcon’s engines.

Ben quickly moves. He's an ungraceful mess with his bound limbs and pounding headache, trying to see past the confines of the metal when he sees it riding beside them. A buzzard in the driver’s seat. On the roof is the gas and bags he packed from his bike. They strapped them to the roof.

Fuck...

This couldn’t be real. This can’t be happening.

When Ben left Takodana, he only did it because he wanted to get away. To meet whatever fate awaited him and him alone. And as much as Ben believes this may be his fate, he knows it is not his father’s. He looks back over to him where he’s still sleeping.

Chewie was still whining from where he was chained up closer to the doors but Ben ignores it for now. His heart beating fast in his chest, fearing the worst as he stares at Han.

“Dad?” Ben breathes out, shakily at first. “Wake up.” He lightly tries to nudge him with his boot, “Come on.”

When Han doesn’t budge, Ben hesitates as he considers what to do next. Thinking only to get him awake, he kicks him a little harder, rewarded with Han’s eyes blowing wide open as he jolts from surprise.

“What the hell? Where...wh-Ben? Is that you?”

Ben nods. “It’s me. We got captured by those Tuskens, we’re in a trailer, but I don’t know where they’re taking us.”

Han groans, “Those fucking assholes. I’m gonna kill them.” He adjusts to sit up seems to curl into himself, wincing. “God almighty. I feel like shit.”

“Where did they get you?” Ben asks him, hearing how his breathing suddenly sounds very rasped. A stark contrast to his silence a moment ago.

Han tries to pull on his own binds behind his back to move a little easier but he just hisses in irritation. “My…” he groans in discomfort, “My stomach and side hurt like hell. Maybe they broke a rib or something...fuck,” he finishes in a rasped breath.

“You’re breathing is strange. It sounds off,” Ben tells him but Han seems to roll his eyes with them closed and Ben wonders how that’s possible.

“Ben, leave it. I’m fine,” Han groans out. “I’ve had plenty worse.”

Ben just sighs, resigning from his father’s excuses to sit back against the walls of the trailer. It shakes as they move and forward. Even if Ben closes his eyes, the motions of the trailer and the strained breaths of his father were a constant reminder of the trap he brought them to.

Ben doesn’t know how he feels about his dad. He was convinced yesterday that he hated the man, but Ben knows now that probably wasn’t true. It was so much easier to pretend to be unattached, but Ben realizes he isn’t as distant and unemotional as he would have liked to be.

How could he be at so much conflict with himself? How could he be this lost? How could one person possibly fuck up this bad?

“Dad?” Ben starts, his eyes still closed.

“What, kid?” Han answers. Ben might roll his eyes at the nickname were this any other occasion but he honestly doesn’t even notice this time.

“If I knew you were going to follow me or that they would be out there, I...I wouldn’t have gone.” Ben tries to express himself, but it doesn't flow as easy as he would like. He feels guilt for leaving though he knows deep within him he's also angry that his father followed him. Why couldn't he be passive like he's been so many times before and just let him go? 

"Don't worry about that right now. This isn't the be all end all. We'll get out of this scrape." Han's eyes are fluttering and he leans his head back against the metal. “I’m just going to close my eyes for a little while. My head is spinning like crazy.” 

“Don’t fall asleep again!” Ben warns him, nervous what could happen. He fears if Han fell asleep, he may never wake up.

“‘M not, fuck, keep your voice down.”

“But we need a plan. What do they want with us?”

Han shrugs as well as he can, his eyes still closed. “Knowing their behavior habits, they’re probably going to try and eat us right before they make the Falcon their new favorite toy.”

“I think they already have,” Ben points out to where he can hear the Falcon, surprised his father didn’t notice it.

Han’s head snaps up, wedging himself to look inbetween the cracks to see the Millenium Falcon. Engine revving and Tusken Raider howling in delight from where he sat behind the wheel.

Han’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t make any remarks on behalf of the car. Ben thinks he’s trying to ignore it.

Ben tries to get more out of his father but he falls asleep, leaving Ben to strategize on his own. He comes up with very little. “Fucking hell,” he breathes out.

They don't talk much after that. Han seems unable to, wheezing slightly or voicing occasionally how badly his head hurt.

Ben tortures himself by thinking of all the reasons why the Tuskens hadn’t killed them yet. The variety of outcomes and explanations that come to Ben as the day goes on is likely fueled on by his growing hunger, becoming more outlandish and hopeless.

Just like all his thoughts for escape attempts. His father was in no shape for any of them and Ben hates that he’s responsible for all of this. He brought his father to this.

This is all his fault, regardless of what Han tried to tell him.

* * *

Rey is driving.

She makes her way back to the place she’s claimed as her own as the sun sets once again. Dusk will soon come, followed by the pitch of night that she’s meant to find rest in but never does.

Her eyes flick to the mirrors every ten seconds, looking all around to ensure no one was following her. In between her glances to look behind, she manages to look ahead, making sure she doesn’t see the tell-tale sign of any buzzard traps.

Her eyes are constantly scanning these sands. Always looking out, trying to protect herself in all the ways she’s had to learn how. Anyway to survive and keep herself safe from the disgusting creatures that still roam this Earth.

How she’s managed this long she doesn’t know. She supposes it’s something a mix of luck and skill that’s kept her alive these past nineteen or so years that she thinks belong to her. She’s half convinced it could be twice as long as that, but the marks she’s etched into nearly every surface of her car confirm that nineteen, or something close to it, are the years she’s been alive.

She sees the Kessel run canyons getting bigger on the horizon. She’s come to know Kessel so well, her knowledge of every turn, path, and rock was nearly as sagacious to the understanding she has with the car she drives. The car she’s restored from the trenches of the canyon itself.

Rey looks in the rearview mirror once more, releasing a sigh when she sees it’s clear. She had been trading at the outpost but she’s coming back later than she would have liked. But it’s still light enough in the glow of dusk to see the coast was clear.

She enters the canyons again, relieved she made it this far, but never dropping her guard.

The coast is clear today and she rounds her usual collection of corners, eventually rounding to the passageway she’s made herself. It leads to a cave, hidden in the canyons. It’s where she stores the collection of things she hasn’t deemed practical enough to keep in the car.

She parks and steps out, ensuring her food, water, and weapons are with her before she covers the car with a tarp as she always does.

She knows it would be wise to not leave it at all, but she’s set a sequence to it. It doesn't go anywhere without her.

Always hungry, she pulls at one of the half portion packs in her bag, ripping off a piece and nibbling at it as she climbs up the short way to the opening of the cave.

The place is small, but it’s comfy, or as comfy as a cave is capable of being. All over are piles of books and old world things she’s found and claimed as her own, not daring to show them to Plutt.

These _things_ were the only real indication that the people of this planet were at one point capable of much more than what’s become of whatever beings the wasteland had spawned.

Given the themes and tales she’s read in the stories she’s found, power seemed to always be what many people were after. Power through money or allies or followers. The potency of power and what form it took depended on the time and place.

Rey figures that guzzoline and water now hold the distinction of being such a symbol. Two things Rey is always needing more of but cursing all the same.

She travels up the ridge into the cave. It’s getting dark but she doubts she will be firing up the generator tonight. It was a small one she started up on special occasions, like if she found any new trinkets that might need power. But today it was all old radiators and rusty parts so Rey knows it will likely be a moonlit kind of evening.

Before she eats, she moves over to the rock wall she’s adopted as the most recent tallie surface and scratches in one for the day. She was all out of room in the car. If she made anymore, she would have to start marking free space under the hood and she knew that was hardly practical.

Actually, nothing about it held much practicality to Rey anymore. Now, if anything, she uses them to gauge her age and to make sure that a day really passed and that they didn’t just blend together, no matter how much her mind tried to confuse her. Originally, these marks were meant to keep track of how many days her parents had been gone. She had held out hope for so long that they were going to come back.

She used to cry at night, with her eyes shut as tight as they would go as she tried to repeat it to herself.

_Tomorrow. They’ll be here tomorrow. They’ll come back for me, I know it. They have to._

But the tomorrow she had hoped for, the day where she would come riding into the outpost to see someone waiting for her, never came. Rey knows well enough now, it never will. Whoever her parents were, they left her deliberately. Plutt never said outright, but he made it clear enough she wasn’t wanted by anyone. She’s finally come to believe him in the past year or so.

It’s meant she’s needed to find a new reason to keep going. A new reason to persist in this wasteland when she would much rather give in. And although she tells herself that she has to keep going because she’s made it this far already, she isn’t sure if that a good enough excuse.

She sits down on her cot, pulling off one of her boots, finding the source of her discomfort in a collection of sand and rocks on the sole. Although the cave is a fair amount of dirt already, she hops out to dump the contents, trying to keep things as orderly as she can in this one place she has control over.

As she stands on the tall rocks, overlooking the vast sands, she sees the familiar lights on the horizon light up the stacks that stand tall many miles away, but not far enough to put her at ease. It was illuminated like it was a place of hope and life when Rey knew well enough that it was just another one of the hellish outlets that this wasteland had in its arsenal.

She’s seen them in the distance, the people who come from there. They never seem to bother with coming through the canyon, remaining in their own highways and territory, trying to keep it that way. Rey has only heard rumors at the outpost of what happens there. It was a place not unlike a city, but the structures were made of massive rock and dirt. Very different from the steel and brick buildings Rey has seen in her books of the old cities that used to cover the Earth all over. Such things she’s never seen for herself but can only imagine what they might have looked like, covering all the surface. She wonders what the world looked like when it wasn’t coated in so much sand.

The place Rey looks at from afar now was not to be trusted. No matter how much food, water, or guzzoline they flaunted and displayed on their rigs and patrol cars or whatever she’s seen through binoculars from the safety of her perch, she knew the source of that city was corrupt. The man who orchestrates it from a throne and claims to be a god.

Again, she’s only heard rumors but she believes it well enough. The rumors of the one they call Immortan Snoke. The man who controls the First Order.

Rey shivers before turning away, dusting off the toe of her boot, trying to distract herself with thoughts to the shoe’s design though it gave her little interest.

She’s about to step back inside when she hears the sound of an engine sputtering nearby. Rey freezes, knowing that she would only hear these echoes if they were in the canyon. Quickly, she pulls her boot back on and rushes to grab her staff and a gun. She keeps her satchel close to her body as she hops on the familiar rocks, rushing to where she can look below.

On the main path, she sees two cars. She first sees the buzzard car, hauling a rusty old trailer. The driver door is wide open and two buzzards were arguing under the hood. Rey looks to focus in the other car, peering through the lenses.

The second car, parked beside the trailer, was definitely not theirs. For one it was too clean, but also, judging from what she could see and hear of the engine, it was a V8.

Nobody had V8’s anymore, certainly not buzzards. It was beautiful really. She’s never seen anything quite like it. Someone had spent a lot of time maintaining it and making custom alterations. A lot of care, time, and resources went into that vehicle and Rey finds herself in a mix of awe and curiosity, forgetting for a moment the buzzards arguing. Rey wonders if the true owner of the car was killed...but then she hears faint barking.

She panics at first, fearing it could be skinwolves, but they don’t sound like that. This sounded like a dog, most likely coming from the trailer.

She focuses back on the small trailer hitched to the car the two Tuskens were arguing over. Through the cracks, she can see movement, though she’s unsure what. It could be a dog. It could be a human, she isn’t sure.

She gets closer, quietly and out of sight, trying to hear the heated argument happening under the hood. The language of the buzzards was at one point, something from the old world. However, over time, radiation, infection, inbreeding, slang, and the degradation of their overall intelligence meant their native tongue was something else entirely. Almost alien sounding.

Rey doesn’t speak it, but she, and quite a few others from the outpost, can at least try to decipher certain words to piece things together. She listens closely, their anger making it harder to understand. Their words rushed and fiery.

They seem to resign from the engine, realizing it wasn’t going to do any good to yell at it or hit it with a wrench. One of the begins to speak a little slower and Rey can make out the basics of it.

“Too much driving. Needs to cool.”

“Starving,” The other one growls.

“Then grab from back. Saved them for food,” the first one answers again.

"Need fire!"

"I'm maintenance, you do fire. I can't do everything!"

The second one huffs, finding a place to gather stones for a fire.

He grabs a can of guzz from the roof of the V8 and spraying some of it over the collection of rocks so it quickly lights aflame. The light making it easier to see what’s happening in the darkening night.

The first buzzard remains under the hood, tinkering with things Rey cannot see although his swears are persistent. Frustrated, he steps away, grabbing a shotgun from the car before moving to the back of the trailer to remove the padlock.

“Come over. Help with food!” he demands of the other.

The buzzard by the fire stands, gripping his gaffi stick again as he moves to the back of the trailer. Suddenly, those muffled barks ring out much louder as the doors creak open and a dog is pulled out by a chain, making him whimper as the one with the gaffi drags him away to chain to the other car’s bumper.

It’s been a long time since Rey has seen a dog and her heart skips in fear of what they might do to it.

Her gaze with the binoculars shifts once again when she hears the one with the shotgun scream again, but this time not at the other buzzard. He’s screaming at their hostages.

“Out, now! Food tonight!” The Tusken howls in laughter now as two men, shackled by their ankles are practically dragged out by their hair and sent to their knees in the sand.

They were planning to eat these men. Maybe even their dog.

_Oh, fuck._

She didn’t think anyone deserved a death so horrible. Rey, fearing such a fate for herself, knew she couldn’t leave them to such a horrible possibility.

She sees an old man with his hands bound behind his back. The same could be said for the younger man beside him, but Rey stills when she catches sight of the look on his face.

She sees a familiar fear in his eyes.

A fear she knows exists within herself.

She can’t let the buzzards succeed.

* * *

 Ben and Han are dragged out from the trailer with night washing over them. He heard the engine failing for the past hour or so, but it seemed to finally die a few minutes ago. So, when he and Han are dragged out, the only thing that surprises him is that they aren’t in the dunes anymore, but some kind of canyon.

They tusken raiders have a fire going and Ben doesn’t want to know why the buzzard standing above him howls in laughter the way he does, pointing to the fire in amusement and then to him and Han. As if to say, that’s where you’re going.

_Fuck. Were they about to get eaten?_

Ben is lightheaded and weak. He spent most of the day, wrestling with the rope tight around his wrists. He had tried to get his father to talk but Han wasn’t doing too good and had rested most of the time, leaving Ben to his own thoughts of their escape.

He’s gotten them a lot looser now, though not off. He needed to at least appear as if they were still on his wrists. He needed to buy time as he read the situation for what it was. He had to be smart if this was his one and only chance at escaping.

Chewie is barking again, trying to pounce on their abductors, but they yank on the chain and he whimpers to silence, crying softly as he still pulls as much as he can.

Han grunts as he gets shoved. The buzzard doesn’t appreciate it though and knocks him with the back of the shotgun, right in the spine. Ben hears as his father falls beside him and Ben watches him with wide, frightened eyes.

“Hey!” Ben shouts but that earns him a similar punishment as he gets a quick blow to the spine and lands face down in the sand beside his father. Han’s rasped breaths returning at full force and Ben starts to feel a familiar rage course through him.

Something needed to change now or they would be dead for sure. The need for strategy making his head pound in urgency.

They haven’t moved them yet. Perhaps the one with the gun was waiting for assistance from the other who was still dealing with Chewie.

That man only wields a staff. He wouldn’t be doing any damage unless he ran back over. The other stands over them, the shotgun held in his grip but not pointed down for once.

If Ben could knock him down, just for a moment, Ben could pull free of the loosened binds and grab the gun and shoot them both in a matter of seconds, given of course the first buzzard drops the gun and Ben can get hold of it before the second one gets here with his blunt staff.

Ben decides if this is his only pathetic chance to escape, he might as well take it.

Fueled only by the crazed heat and need to escape, he takes his chances. Ben looks over his shoulder as best he can with his face in the sand and kicks at the buzzard’s legs. The buzzard howls, leaning over in pain, and Ben quickly pulls at the rope, freeing his wrists in frenzied motion, his big hands straining slightly but finally free.

He moves back to his knees, restricted by the shackles still around his ankles as he pushes the tusken down completely, punching him relentlessly until his grip releases the gun. Ben takes hold of it. It’s in his hands.

_I got it!_

The second one comes running, screaming. Ben quickly aims it down to the tusken in the sand, knowing he must fire now so he can shoot at the second one.

But as he pulls the trigger, all he hears is a click and Ben’s heart sinks as he realizes it isn’t loaded.

The gun they’ve been threatening them with never had a goddamn bullet in it.

Ben has to improvise, think of a new plan. The tusken charging for him is howling, Chewie is barking, and Han is shouting his name. Ben pushes to his feet ready to try to put the blunt end of the gun to some use as he’s rapidly approached by a wild desert man with a staff.

The one behind him now tries to stagger to his feet, recovering from Ben’s earlier attempts.

At their insistence to keep them prisoner, Ben has a fleeting thought that buzzard is such a fitting name for these beings.

Ben plants his feet, ready to fight as he knows how to, his eyes trained on the one charging for him...when suddenly, he just collapses. The shot that killed him registering in Ben’s ears later than it should have.

The other tusken groans in confusion and before Ben could approach him, another shot fires and he falls back to the ground as well.

Suddenly, Ben’s skin is covered with goosebumps as he knows someone is watching them. He doesn’t know if they mean to shoot him too. They could mean to kill everyone so they could steal the supplies.

Ben grips the empty shotgun for a sense of protection though he knows it’s fairly pointless from where he stands. When no other shots ring out, Ben takes his chances. “Who’s there? Show yourself!” Ben demands, looking all around.

“Ben?” Han rasps from where he’s still face down in the sand. Ben drops the unloaded rifle, rushing to his side. He can’t untie the binds. Han’s ropes tighter than his were and he’s about to rise, to look for anything sharp that might help when there’s a small thud in the sand beside him. Ben looks down to see a small knife lying in the sand.

Ben takes it, studying it for a moment before he turns to see a pair of rugged looking boots a few feet away.

He slowly looks up at the figure, finding them clad in flowy, tan fabric and their face hidden behind some kind of cloth mask and goggles.

He doesn’t know who they are, but they aren’t a buzzard and judging by the rifle held over their shoulder, they were who saved their lives.

Ben desperately tries to clear his throat as he looks up to their rescuer in awe, unsure of why, in this ruthless, unforgiving wasteland, they would risk helping them. “T-Thank you,” Ben rasps out. His throat is drier than he ever remembers it being.

When he gets no response, he turns again, cutting the ropes with the knife and helping his father sit up.

Han winces as he moves, holding at his side. “Are you alright? Dad, are you okay?” Ben breathes out, but Han waves him off, insisting he was fine. His eyes light up though when he finally gets a look at the figure standing behind Ben. But Ben stills for a moment when a smirk appears on Han’s face.

Ben’s head snaps back around to see the rescuer had removed their goggles and their mask, revealing the face of a young girl. She was probably around his age. Her eyes holding the dancing light of the fire she stood beside.

 _Dancing light? Where did that come from?_ Ben questions himself.

“You-uh...I-” Ben stammers, unable to form coherent words apparently.

The girl seems to look at both of them before turning to look at the Falcon and Chewie barking from where he’s chained on the bumper.

“Is that your car?” She asks them but Ben can’t speak for some reason.

“Yeah,” Han answers.

“I have a place and some med supplies. I think you should come with me. I have plenty more bullets left in this gun though so I suggest you don’t try anything funny, alright?”

Ben says nothing but looks to his father. He was in a bad way and if this girl really had some sort of first aid, perhaps it was worth the risk. She had saved their life after all.

Finally, he nods, “We don’t want to hurt you, I swear.”

She looks at him again, nodding herself. “Alright, then. Come on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rey's car (or at least the body/frame) is an AMC Eagle that looks something like this:  
>   
> (shitty picture, I apologize)
> 
> The body of the Falcon is a 1977 Chevy Camaro. Looks something like this:  
> 
> 
> These don't look "apocalypse-ish" enough to me so I very well may draw my own versions and then share them so you have the visual I'm going for. Again, I'm not a car buff so whatever, I'm just going to piece the mechanics of everything as well as I can.
> 
> This feels pretty stupid so far but then I remember it's just fanfiction and I should probably just relax and try to enjoy myself, lol.


	3. The Cave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite their rescue, Ben and Han's relationship still holds tension. Rey sees some of this for herself, unsure of what to make of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not breathed proper oxygen since that trailer released. Lots of feels. Lots. Of. Feels. December is lightyears away from April and I'm not taking it well.
> 
> Also, I would like to address this in case you're worried. Although this is a Mad Max AU there will be NO rape or non-con scenes. Our main characters will NOT be assaulted in such a way throughout this story or the second part of the series. If there are sensitive topics in chapters though, I will tag accordingly and let you know in the notes (but it will be mainly violence or blood related). I feel like I needed to address that though since that is a theme that is seen in a lot of Mad Max related fiction.

They both seemed fairly surprised to see her and she wonders if it’s the shock that someone would bother to help another. 

Honestly, she’s surprised at herself for acting so rash. She knows she’s only supposed to be concerned with herself in the wastelands, but these people had been in danger and it was the right thing to do. 

Not to mention the look she had seen in the young man’s eyes. As she stands closer now, those same eyes seem to bore into her and her heart skips at their depth. They were so dark, nearly looking black save for the tiny little flecks of light glistened from the fire. 

_ Glistened? Where the fuck did that come from?  _ Rey asks herself. 

He stares at her and their locked gaze seems too heavy, too much for her to be a part of. She quickly looks away, ignoring the heat on her cheeks, hoping the darkness of night hides it. 

Instead, she fixes her attention on the older man. Rey could tell, by one look, that he was in bad shape and needed help. She could hear him wheezing now as she was closer. 

So, chancing more than she should, Rey tells them she will take them to safety, or at least as much safety as she could offer, trying to stay cautious herself.

“I have plenty more bullets left in this gun though so I suggest you don’t try anything funny, alright? It’s not every day that I decide to help anyone.”

The younger man looks at his father in fear before looking back at her. He understands the severity of the situation and the older man’s condition. Rey wonders for a moment, watching how he holds him, that this may be a father and a son. The sight making something foreign catch in her throat.

“We don’t want to hurt you, I swear,” the younger man says.

Rey nods. “Alright, then. Come on.” 

She rushes over to help get the older man off the ground and over to the car. Their strides are compromised by the shackles. She knows she has some bolt cutters for the chains she can offer them. 

Their dog is still whimpering in the chains. They get the older man in the passenger seat and he grunts in discomfort. “Ben,” he groans and Rey steps back.

“I’m here, dad. It’s okay. She said she has some stuff that might help,” the son tells him.

Rey had never heard anybody call anyone ‘Dad’ before and something in her coils tight. She’s imagined many times what it would have been like to call someone that. She’s wondered many times what her own father might have looked like. She shakes her head, trying to distance herself from them, her throat feeling dry suddenly. 

Instead, she tries to distract herself by unchaining the whining dog. He growls a little at first, unsure with her approach. She understands his wariness with strangers so she tries to seem as friendly as she can. She reaches into her satchel, pulling out the scrap of bread she had been nibbling on and holds it out to him, his uncertain rumblings ceasing almost instantly as he bites into it.

“Alright, good boy. Here you go.” He practically inhales it. Within seconds he looks up at her, licking his chops, eyes asking for more. Rey chuckles a little, petting his head, as he tries to wedge his nose into her bag, searching for more. “Easy,” she laughs at him. As he continues his search, snout deep in her satchel, she fiddles with the rusty collar and chains around his neck, pulling them off. The dog instantly shakes off as if he was trying to get rid of any traces of the thing and she didn’t blame him. 

* * *

Ben is helping Han get situated in the seat, his eyes looking over every few seconds to look at the girl offering some food to Chewie.

His dad must see it in the rearview mirror because he laughs. “That dog will never leave her side now.” Ben doesn’t understand how Han could find the energy to make a joke at a time like this. He pointedly looks away from the girl, trying to refocus. 

She walks back over though, Chewie loyally by her side like Han said he would be. He ignores how strange his stomach feels when he looks at her, deciding that it was likely just hunger, although he knows hunger doesn’t feel near this jittery. 

He clears his throat, dying for water. “Do you want me to drive?”

She nods, “I’ll get in the back,” she moves to the other side of the car. She reroutes slightly to kick dirt into the fire, extinguishing it swiftly before she comes back to the car, everything much darker now. Ben meets her on the driver’s side, pushing the front seat forward so she can get to the back. Chewie follows her and Ben pushes the seat back and ducks in. He hasn’t been allowed to drive the Falcon in a while and a comforting sense of belonging washed over him, though he tries to deny it. He’s committed to loathing the vehicle. 

The keys are still in the ignition and Ben turns it, the Falcon roaring back to life. Ben doesn’t care if he breaks out of his resolve for a moment to be relieved he was at least out of the goddamn trailer and back in something familiar. Something that, in a way, he supposes is safe.

He remembers though how the girl still held her own gun, and although the Falcon was in no way short of hideaway weapons, as she likely assumes, they must rely on this temporary grounds of understanding. After what she’s done for them and he doubts she will try to eat them as the tuskens did. 

He puts the Falcon into gear and the girl practically leans to hover over his right shoulder. “Turn around and stay to the right, and go slow. The opening will come up quick.”

“Okay,” Ben nods, keeping his eyes on the dirt before him. His throat is so dry and he’s dying for water. He knows he should say something else though, the silence of the car becoming uncomfortable as a thousand questions run through his mind. 

But then Han speaks up, his breathing still ragged but Ben can hear the small smile in his voice.

“So, kid. What exactly prompted you to not let us get eaten back there?”

She doesn’t answer at first, quiet for a moment. When she speaks she just points up ahead, “Here. Turn here.” Ben does as she says, finding the pathway tight. It hardly looks like a road but as he goes forward, he realizes it evens out to a road again before it leads to a slight incline on the rocks. “Keep going. My car is parked up here,” she tells Ben and he does as she instructs. He hears her sigh and she’s close enough over his shoulder that he feels it on the back of his neck. “I don’t…” she starts, stopping herself to sigh again. “Nobody helps anybody in the wastelands. You both know that. But I’m tired of just letting things pass by and pretend they aren’t happening. If you think I would enjoy watching the buzzards eat two hostages and their dog, then you’re mistaken.”   
“So, what? You just decide to kill our attackers and sweep us off our feet as you feed our dog and take us to your shelter?” Han asks her. His tone does not hold the suspicions he accuses her of. If anything, he sounds like he’s asking her if she’s sure of her decisions. As if he’s trying to teach her a lesson on being so bold. 

The girl picks up on it and rolls her eyes. “Well, if you’re feeling better and you would rather not trust me, feel free to be on your way,” she says.

Han shakes his head. “No, really. We owe you big time. I’m just curious what it was about us that made you want to step in. Surely you’ve seen your fair share of shit out here, I’m guessing. What makes us so special? What made you want to risk your own safety to help us?”

Ben looks in the rearview mirror to look at her. Her gaze lifts up to find his eyes and that same heavy look passes between them again. He tries not to think about it for what it is, especially after his father’s questions. He looks away, trailing further up the path. 

She points to another small opening, finally breaking the silence. “Here. Pull in here.” Ben does and finds that they are in something almost like a cave, although it’s a little more exposed than a real cave. It’s not completely dark as the exposure to the sky unveils some of the moonlight. He sees there’s another car already here. He parks beside it, about to turns the car off, but the girl leans forward and she pulls the keys out of the ignition before he could. The quiet of the engine giving them space they were in an almost heavy silence. It remains that way until she finally speaks, leaning on her elbows over the armrest, Chewie panting over her shoulder. 

“Look, it was not a simple decision to do what I did, but I think it helps to do what is right, not what is easy. I’m not keen on trusting anybody, but...I don’t know, when I saw what they were going to do to you, I could tell you were taken by the buzzards and I heard them say they were planning to eat you and I couldn’t just let it pass me by. I’m trying to do the right thing.”

_ The right thing _ , Ben repeats in his mind. He doubts he’s ever done a right thing in his life. He’s only screwed up and caused everybody around him and himself pain. Yet, here is a girl, seemingly alone and living as well as she can amongst this hellish landscape, and she acted in their best interest purely because she believed it was the right thing. 

He isn’t quite sure what to make of it. It was more decency than Ben would ever expect from anyone.

“Well, thank you. I don’t know what we would have done if-” Ben begins but Han interrupts him.

“We would have been buzzard stew,” he laughs. Ben hasn’t heard his father laugh in a long time and it seems ridiculous that he manages to find humor in their possible demise. The girl chuckles at his father’s stupid joke which only encourages Han as he tries to maneuver his body so he can get a better look at her. “You got a name, kid?”

_ Kid _ , Ben rolls his eyes. He must just call everyone younger than himself by that name then. Ben had even heard him call Luke that on a few occasions. 

“I’m Rey,” she says fairly quietly.

Rey. Her name is Rey.

“Well, then, Rey…” Han smiles, holding out his hand for her to shake and she accepts it after a moment. “I’m Han. Han Solotansky.”

“Han,” she repeats with a smile.

“And this is my son, Ben.” Han looks to Ben now with a funny glint in his eye. Rey turns to him fully, still folded over the armrest with the dog probably slobbering on her shoulder. Again their eyes meet and Ben doesn’t know why his heart seems to tumble in his chest. He feels weird but he decides to blame it on the dehydration and trauma of the day. 

She holds out her hand to him now and smiles at him. “Nice to meet you, Ben.”

He takes her hand in his as their eyes meet yet again. Her hands are calloused and rough but there’s a gentleness to them. A contradiction of so many things in such a simple exchange that Ben is nearly overwhelmed. He’s probably quiet for too long before he finally speaks. “Nice to meet you too...Rey.”

* * *

Ben told Rey he could help his father to Rey’s safe place, but asked if she could carry the backpack on top of Han’s car. Hopefully, the buzzards hadn’t found the supplies inside. She grabs hold of it and leads the way, offering her arm to Han for balance as they manage to get up a slight incline. Eventually, they are finally faced with an opening to the cave Rey mentioned and they duck inside. 

Rey stands straight, familiar with the small space but Ben hunches to not scrape his head along the rock above. 

Rey steps ahead then, pulling out a lantern and lighting it with a lighter from her bag. It lights up the space. 

Ben is surprised at what he sees. 

There’s a collection of things, some of which Ben has never seen, all belonging to a time long before his own. There’s plenty of books scattered all around. Part of him is jealous. There are far more books here than have ever been accessible to him and he can only imagine how many more stories and worlds exist beyond the ones he has read from his disposal. His small collection of favorites hopefully still safe in the backpack Rey was now carrying.

His envious thoughts still though when he notices how the rock above the far wall was riddled with small, intentional scratches. All similar in length forming what he realizes are tallies. Many, many tallies.

“Lay him here.” Ben hears her say, breaking him out of his thoughts. Rey points to a small cot. She moves quickly to gather the things she left on it. “Sorry. Not many guests,” she jokes. Chewie jumps on the bed, likely thinking he could get Rey’s attention. “Oh, come on. Not for you,” she tells him rather endearingly and Ben knows it only encourages the dog’s behavior.

“Chewie, off,” Ben tells him and he instantly obeys. Rey looks to him with a quizzical brow and a smirk, probably amused by his name. 

He helps Han sit first, slowly assisting him as he reclines and his head hits the surface. The springs creak under his weight. Ben moves to kneel beside the bed, unable to be much help when he’s bent over, avoiding the ceiling. 

Rey returns passing him his backpack. “Thank you,” he tells her, ripping it open. He could have cried when he saw everything was where he seemed to leave it. Ben feels foolish for giving those buzzards so much credit in their capture of them earlier. They were stupid creatures who seemed concerned mostly in apprehending the Falcon and keeping them alive for eating. 

He pulls out his canteen and takes a large gulp, not even minding the water was warmer than the air. He quickly wipes at his lips as he passes it to his father. “Here,” he holds it out.

Han’s eyes burst open with what seems to be joy. “Thank fuck, I feel like my throat is made of concrete.” He tilts his head to drink but must pull something in his side when he does because he winces and falls back down. “Ben...do you think-” he starts but Ben interrupts him, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. He helps support Han’s head and drink from the canteen. “Thank you,” Han says as he swallows finally. 

Rey returns beside them just then with a pair of bolt cutters and a large tin box that Ben suspects is the first aid kit, although the image on the lid has been scratched off to hell. She hands the bolt cutters to Ben, nodding to the shackles on his ankles.

“Thank you,” he tells her, managing to snip close enough to the cuff that would remain stuck around the outside of his boot. The chains are finally gone though and he’s relieved enough of that. He realizes now that along with the sting he’s been ignoring on the skin of his wrists, they are red and blistered from where the rope had been tied. Bloody in places though not deep enough to be of major concern. Continuing to ignore it, for now, he moves to the end of the bed to do the same to his father’s shackles before handing them back to her. “You seem to have something for everything in here,” he tells her, meaning to sound appreciative. He thinks it’s how a regular person might make conversation, but as he sees her eyes fall, he realizes he might have already said something he shouldn’t have. 

“Not everything,” she says quietly, her eye flicking over slightly. Ben thinks she might have been looking to the wall of tallies he noticed earlier. She turns again though, rifling through the contents of the first aid kit. “What exactly is bothering you, Han?”

Han waves his hand in the air, downplaying his injuries. “I’m fine. Really. They just nudged me pretty good in the ribs. I might have broken ‘em. Just need to stay still, I think.”

Rey huffs. “Broken ribs,” she says to herself. “He’s right. I don’t think much besides rest and ease heals that. I guess I don’t have much to help you with after all. I’m sorry.”

_ She’s sorry? Why is she sorry?  _ Ben wonders. 

“Nonsense. You saved our lives,” Han tells her but she just shrugs.

“Really, Rey. We owe you everything,” Ben tells her and she looks at him again. This time though there seemed to be great sadness in her countenance and he’s unsure why and he wonders if she was still upset at his earlier comment. When her eyes fall, she must notice the condition of his wrists and she turns back to the first aid kit. 

“They could get infected. I don’t want to know what kind of things exist in the back of a buzzard trailer. We should clean and dress those.”

Ben thinks of saying no, but once he starts to consider what she’s saying, his wrists instantly start to itch and drive him crazy. He’s suddenly worried they could be infected already. 

Scooting closer to her he holds out his hands upturned so she can assist him. She hisses as she pulls out a bottle of something and blots it onto some cleaner looking fabric. She holds it above his skin, pausing to look at him. “This will clean it but it will hurt,” she tells him, her other hand gently taking hold of his arms to keep them in place. She waits then as if waiting for a reply.

“It’s okay. Do it,” he tells her, prepared for whatever it brought.

But then she dabs at his wounds with the rag and the stinging sensation strikes him immediately.

_ Nevermind. _

He grits his teeth, breathing heavily through his nose. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Rey quickly apologizes, trying to work quickly. He realizes she’s done when she begins wrapping thin gauze around his wrists. She huffs though as she realizes she only has enough to cover one of his wrists. “Shit. You know, I think I have more of this in my car.” She looks like she’s about to rise when she eyes both of them a little warily. “If I go get it, is everyone going to be here when I get back?”

Ben’s brow furrows, confused. She was worried they were going to bolt or something. Han actually scoffs, “Where would we go, kiddo?”

Rey looks actually embarrassed and gets to her feet. “Right. I’ll be right back.” She stands and heads for the mouth of the small cave with her gun over her shoulder and Chewie follows her out.

It’s quiet when she leaves and Ben turns to look at Han, unsure of what to say. But Han just has a stupid smirk on his face. “Maybe Chewie isn’t the only one who has taken a liking to our savior.”

“Shut up,” Ben says, looking away, trying to will away the color he feels blooming on his face. 

Han just shakes his head in amusement. “Well, I think that answers my suspicions well enough.”

Ben roils in embarrassment, forgetting for a moment all the strife of the day as he can only manage to think of how tiresome his father gets. However, it’s been a long time that Han has teased him so innocently. It’s been so long since Ben has heard anything but frustration or disappointment in his tone. 

Regardless of the nature of his commentary, it still pisses Ben off. Rey had saved their lives. He was grateful for what she’s done for them. The implication from his father bringing out a familiar and petulant resentment that Ben doesn’t know how to stop as the words just flood from his mouth.

“I don’t see why you think you’re an expert at noticing such things,” Ben throws at him. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Han asks, the lightness of his tone evaporated. 

Ben shakes his head. His father knows exactly what he means. It was no secret that his parents held very little affection for the other at this point. He doesn’t know why Han even bothers pretending like it wasn’t happening. 

Han scoffs and then gives up waiting for an answer, knowing what Ben’s silence implied. “Fine. Forget it. I just thought I saw something.”

Ben’s traitorous and curious mind begins to wonder what this  _ something _ might have been. He just turns away though, not wanting to indulge himself with his father’s foolish observations. He knows what he said was harsh and a part of him regrets it. He hates that he said it. But there’s a louder part of him that reminds him that albeit harsh, it was true. Han and his mother were hardly on speaking terms anymore. Strictly arguing terms on the odd occasion. 

Why was it that every time Ben tries to point out the obvious, the thoughts that everyone was thinking, he was only hated further?

_ We do not hate you, Ben. _ That’s what Han had said this morning, right before they were taken. He has a hard time believing it. He certainly didn’t feel welcome at home. But even if it was true, and they didn’t hate him, it didn’t stop him from hating himself. It didn’t stop him from loathing everything about himself and his existence. Including his tendencies to say the things he did, as if he sought out this torment. 

It’s totally silent until Rey comes back. A clean roll of gauze in her hand. “Found it,” she smiles, kneeling back to her place before Ben. She looks to him cautiously and then quickly looking at Han before she focuses back on the wrappings. She knows something was said in her absence. She probably thinks they were talking about her. Although she was involved in the discussion, that is not why it is silent now. 

“Thank you,” Ben tells her, looking at the bandages in quiet fondness as he tries to think of something comforting to say. Anything to assure her and ease the troubled look on her face. “Are you hungry?”

She looks to him with a smirk. “Always.”

* * *

 

Rey had tried to tell them that she had her own food but both Han and Ben insisted she had more than earned her share of the food that was still in Ben’s backpack. She’s hesitant to accept at first, wondering what happened when she went to go fetch the gauze. Upon her return, the cave was suddenly filled with an uneasy air that Rey fears she may have caused.

Did she do something wrong? Should she not have trusted their word? Could Han be faking his injuries?

No. She was being paranoid. They were probably shaken from their experiences today, unsure of what to say now that it was over. They’re probably traumatized. 

Ben pulled a loaf of bread from his pack. It was wrapped in a piece of cloth with an ornate design all over, revealing a rather large loaf of bread. He pulls it apart into pieces. The first one he pulls off goes to his father but they don’t look at eachother or even say anything. It seems a little cold considering they were father and son, but Rey tries to stay out of it. It’s not her place to make assumptions. 

Ben then passes a large piece to her and she takes it with a smile. “Thank you,” she breathes out, studying it in her fingers. It didn’t look like the portion packs that she’s made do with all her life. It looked...good. It smelled good. It even sounded good. The crust crackled a little bit when Ben broke it apart and Rey’s mouth waters as she looks at it.

She takes a bite and her senses are overloaded with the new sensation of something that actually tasted of something good. It was unlike anything she’s had before.

It was amazing. 

“What’s wrong, Rey?” Ben asks her and her head spins to see that he’s watching her with a furrowed brow, chewing his own piece of bread nonchalantly. Unsure why she was so phased.

“Where did you get this. This isn’t from Niima. It doesn’t taste like it,” Rey asks them, unsure of how to even what to ask. 

“It’s from where we live,” Ben answers. He looks down, something passing over his face she can’t quite decipher. Rey concludes that maybe he was embarrassed as if he thought she didn’t like it. 

“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” she tells them, pulling off another piece and taking a bite. She looks back up to see that finally, Han and Ben were looking at each other. But it’s a look of pity. They feel sorry for her and she tries to trudge forward with a question before they ask their own. “Where do you come from them? Nothing tasting this good could come from the sand. At least I don’t think it could.”

Ben and Han are both finished with their bread as Rey tries to savor hers as long as she can. Ben doesn’t look at her though, fiddling with the loose fibers of the gauze and tucking them into the bindings. 

Her focus shifts to Han when she hears him finally speak. “We live in a place called Takodana. It’s a secret place we’ve protected since Ben was born. It’s filled with fresh water and living plants. It’s where we harvested the wheat that made this bread among many other things.”

Rey nearly scoffs at first, thinking he may be joking. No place left in the wasteland could offer such a sanctuary. No place like that existed. But the look on his face is unchanging and Rey studies them both for a moment. Their car, their clothes, their supplies, this bread. They didn’t look near as dirty as everyone else in the wastelands. True they had some scrapes and sand on their clothes and hair, but that could have been from their abduction. 

“Really?” she breathes out.

Han’s kind crooked smile returns to his face. “Yeah. You would love it.”

As Han says this, Rey hears Ben fidget where he was kneeling. He moves to lean against the bed, looking through what else was in his backpack, as if he was resigning from the conversation. 

Rey is too curious to give it much thought though, asking further. “Is that where you were taken? They found you in this place?”

Han looks down for a moment, his eyes trailing towards his son that was still facing away. “Not quite. Ben and I were...on a patrol early this morning, before light. Trying to ensure the perimeter was safe when Chewie,  _ dog wonder _ ,” Han looks to the dog with a mock scowl, “ran off and got himself caught. We followed him but that’s when the buzzards pounced on us. By the time we woke up, we were in the back of that trailer.”

“That’s horrible,” Rey breathes out. “Did they attack your home?” 

“I don’t think so. We were far enough out and they’re too stupid to do much else, I think. Ben’s mother must be worried sick.”

“Your mother?” Rey whispers, looking at Ben finally but he was still determined to look into his bag. He nods though, biting his cheek as if he was holding something back. She fears he may be upset.

But again, Rey tries to keep her judgments away.  _ Mother  _ was at one point a word, a title, she idolized, imaging the face of her own. The smile she would see when they have reunited once again. But the imaginary face is forever blank now as Rey knows her mother is long dead or long gone. 

Having parents does not promise love as Rey is too well aware of. The overall impression she got of them as a loving father and son perhaps not as potent as she previously believed.

“Do more people live in this place? Do more people know about it?” she asks Han, wondering how she’s never heard of it.

“Just the handful of us. Ben, his mom and I, along with his uncle Luke and our old friend Maz.” Han sighs, “Others have come across it before, trying to infiltrate, but we’ve pretty much claimed it as our own.”

Ben rises suddenly, clearing his throat and holding a hand to his forehead and setting down his backpack. “I need some air. I’m going to step outside.”

Han’s face flinches and calls after him before he leaves. “You still have the keys?” Han’s voice is firm. It sounds almost like an accusation.

Ben stops dead in his tracks, slowly turning around until his eyes meet Han’s. “Really? You think I would do that?” Ben sounds devastated and Rey realizes what was said. The implication that Ben would take the car and ride off. 

Han shrugs. “It was just a question.”

“‘Just a question,’” Ben repeats, shaking his head. He steps back over to the backpack he left on the floor and pulls out the keys. He then leans over Han and places them in his hand. “Don’t sound so paranoid then. You get to hold them.”

Han doesn't answer as Ben steps away again, Chewie following him out as he leaves the cave. 

Rey remains on the floor where she’s been sitting but she’s confused and startled by the exchange. 

Something was very wrong here and she wonders of what they have told her is the full truth. She just stays very quiet as she watches the old man on her cot give in to the sadness that overtakes his face. 

“I’m sorry, kid,” he sniffles a little. 

“Should I check on him?”

“No. Give him a minute. It’s been a long day and I haven’t helped it by any means.” Rey nods, lost as to where she fits within these people. These strangers whose lives were unfolding around her. Little snippets of their true selves making themselves know when they would prefer to stay hidden. 

“I love my son very much...but I’m afraid I was never a really good father,” Han tells her quietly. Rey doesn’t know how to respond to that. Such a heavy admission from a man she hardly knew.

“Do you have folks?” he asks her next.

“Folks?” she asks confused. 

“You know...Parents or family?”

Rey’s jaw tightens and she looks away from Han, her eyes drifting to the wall of tallies. “No. I um...I’m alone. Always been.” She sees the pity in Han’s eyes and she turns away, not wanting to discuss that of all things. 

“I’m sorry about that, Rey. I didn’t mean to overstep. I was just curious. You see, I never had much for parents either and I guess it left me a bit too frazzled at the concept of being a parent myself. I haven’t exactly made things easy for him and I-” his voice croaks and he swallows, clearing his throat and trying to chase away the emotion so clear in his voice. “I go and say things like that and I wonder why he can’t stand me,” Han gives a humorless chuckle.

Rey doesn’t know what to say. She’s never heard someone speak like this. So honest and raw. She doesn’t know how to process it.

She does know though, that despite their actions and their words, there was love somewhere. It was lost and muddled but it was there. 

Han takes another gulp of water from the canteen Ben left with him. 

“Sorry,” he tells her after a few quiet moments. “I didn’t mean to throw all of this on you. I haven’t been able to talk, just talk, in a while. Leia, Ben’s mom, and I haven’t been...We haven’t been doing good lately. None of us have. I didn’t realize how suffocating it must be for Ben.” 

Han yawns then. “You know, I feel like shit. I think I’m going to close my eyes, just for a while.”

“Okay,” Rey gives him a sad kind of smile.

“Rey, do you think...I don’t mean to tangle you up with all this, but even if I could get up he wouldn’t want to talk to me. Do you think, in a little while, if he hasn’t come in, you could go check on him?”

Rey nods. “I will.”

“Thank you,” he says, closing his eyes. “I don’t want him to be alone,” he breathes out quietly before drifting off into sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone that is reading this. I appreciate it so much.


	4. To Niima and Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I dove headfirst into this story back in like March but then quickly changed gears with another story and I don't want to half-ass this one so I just put it on the back burner. 
> 
> That being said, I'm not crazy about this chapter but if I'm honest, some of these early chapters are a little fuzzy because I've really only visualized the tail end of this story and the plot of the sequel that follows. But, as usual, I was too hasty and just published it way back when and now it was sitting in limbo for a while so I apologize.
> 
> I'm not sure how consistently I will be updating this because it's hard to work out some of the logistics and to get to the ending I have in mind so it may take some time. But fear not, It's always in the back of my mind and I'm not going to abandon it.

Ben is sitting on a tall rock with his elbows perched on his knees. Chewie is laying beside him, his eyes closed for now and finding rest. Ben envies him. 

He has often wished to free of human emotions and strife. He’s wished he could find sleep as easily as the dog did. 

Because even though he’s exhausted, Ben knows he won’t be sleeping soundly. He never has. Instead, he looks out at the vast landscape. Everything is covered with endless dunes, hills, and rocks. 

And _sand…_ so much fucking sand.

But he focuses on a strange beacon in the distance. It’s very far away, making it look pretty small on the horizon line, but it’s illuminated by electric lights and it seems like it could be hundreds of feet high. A stark contrast to the miles of darkness that cloaks all else.

He tries to let his mind think of what it could be, but his thoughts are anchored back to the exchange from the cave. He was so furious when his father asked him such a question. There was no trust in his voice, expecting him to take the keys and ditch him.

_Because you left before. He has no reason to trust you._

Ben shuts his eyes, his inner thoughts far more tormenting than his father’s words ever could be. 

He tries to forget, for now, the accusation held to him, thinking further to when Rey asked of Takodana and the nature of their capture. Han told her they had been on patrol when they were taken, mentioning nothing of Ben running away or how Han chased after him.

Ben doesn’t know why Han bothered lying to her because the true nature of their strenuous relationship became rather clear to her after their discussion about the keys.

She was smart. Observant. Surely she has picked up on these things by now just as he could tell she suspected something when she came back with the gauze. 

Ben looks down at his wrists that she had cleaned and wrapped for him. She was gentle and kind and she didn’t look at him in pity or disappointment. 

_If she knew what you were really like, she would despise you like all the rest._

Ben audibly groans, trying to ignore his dark but likely accurate thoughts. He isn’t sure why he even cares what she thinks of him. Perhaps he feels indebted for what she’s done. Which he does, and he was willing to believe that, but then Han had to go and tempt his thoughts with making those comments. 

He spoke like he understood him and knew him. Like they had a healthy relationship. 

It pissed Ben off and perhaps it was because he felt confused enough already when it came to-

“Ben?”

He jolts, spinning around and sees Rey standing a few feet away. Chewie wakes up and immediately saunters over to her, nudging her palms so she would pet him. 

“Hello again,” she smiles. “Chewie, you called him?” she looks up at Ben and he nods as he rises to his feet to speak with her.

“Chewie,” he repeats. “It’s a nickname for his real one.” She looks to him expectantly, waiting for him to tell him and he fights the smirk that threatens his features, biting his cheek. “Chewbacca.”

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. She gives a soft laugh and Ben’s stomach does that fluttering thing again. “I can see why he has the nickname then.”

Ben watches as she scratches Chewie’s neck. He can see Rey adores Chewie as easily as Chewie already adores her. He can’t fight the smirk now, he gives a small laugh through his nose. Rey looks up at him, hearing it for what it was and she looks almost surprised to hear it.

Their eyes meet again but Rey looks away quickly, focusing more on the dog. Ben isn’t quite sure what to say, so he looks over his shoulder again, looking at the mysterious location illuminated on the horizon. 

“Rey, what is that?” He points out to the lights but when he looks back at her face, she looks frightened. 

“It’s...the First Order,” she breathes out.

“An order?” He asks confused.

She nods. “It’s a city of sorts. Of course, I’ve never been near it and I’ve only heard rumors but I know well enough that whatever lies within their limits is far worse than anything else this wasteland could conjure up.”

“Why?” Ben looks to her. “What kind of rumors?”

Rey sighs. “It’s got power, water, food, shelter. They make trades with other syndicates that reside further from here although I’ve never seen them. And as comfortable as these places may sound, they are fueled by blood and fire, riddled with troopers that serve their Master’s purpose.”

“Master,” Ben repeats, horrified.

Rey nods anyway. “I’m not sure about the other places, but I’ve heard that the First Order is run by a man who claims to be a god.”

“Fuck, that’s...” Ben feels goosebumps prickle his skin as he shudders at the thought. He had no idea that things in the wasteland had potential to be so...organized? That wasn’t quite the word for it, but he’s surprised to see there are faux civilizations and apparently psycho, guzz-fueled cults as well. “That’s disgusting.”

“I know. They remain for the most part in their territory and on their routes though. They don’t come through the canyon much. Even then, it’s small cargo and they pass by, oblivious to my paths.” Rey looks around to the rocks of the canyon with sincerity. He could tell it wasn’t ideal, but she was thankful for whatever sanctuary she could find. 

“Have you always been here?” He asks her, curious. 

She shakes her head. “No. I used to live with a man named Plutt. He watched after me. Taught me how to scavenge, read, and drive so I would be of more use to him.”

Ben didn’t like how that sounded. That she was meant to be of more use to someone, but he can tell from earlier that if he shows anything resembling pity she turns away. She doesn’t want his sympathy. “You like to read?” He asks with a smirk.

She smiles too. “Of course. I like to read about the times that came before. Before everything went to shit.”

“Me too. Have you read every book you have piled in there?” Ben asks her.

She chuckles a little. “Oh, no. I mean to but some of them are in different languages that I don’t know yet. Considering the lack of resources I doubt I ever will.”

“You speak other languages?” He asks her. She just shrugs her shoulders a bit.

“Well, I can understand a few others. Just things I’ve had to pick up at the outpost. I can really only read English.”

“Is that how you could understand what the buzzards were saying?”

“Yeah. Not very well though. Just enough to get the gist, you know?” Ben stares at her, dumbfounded. 

“That’s still amazing,” Ben tells her. Rey looks down, away from him. It seems like any kind of attention he tries to give her makes her turn away from him. 

“Well, I don’t know about ‘amazing’...but thanks,” she finally says. 

Ben turns to look back at the cave, wondering how long he had really been gone and if his father was alright. Despite everything, he does not want his father to die.

“Is, uh…” Ben doesn’t know how to phrase it. He doubts she’ll think he means it regardless though. “Is my dad okay?”

She looks to him, petting Chewie’s neck as he lays his head in her lap. “He’s sleeping. In a few days, as long as he stays stationary, he might be able to move a little better and you guys could be on your way. Back home.”

 _Home_...Why does that sound so disappointing?

Could he really go back? After everything? The same life he left behind will still be there. His desperation to evade that was still heavy on his mind. He didn’t want to go back to just making it through the days and being surrounded by all the reminders of how resented he was. Despite how devastating the stint in the buzzards trailer had been, he thinks that the wasteland remains as the place that he needs to stay. Not Takodana. 

But Han would never hear it. 

Rey clears her throat, perhaps noticing he was lost in thought and speaks suddenly. “Listen, I...Your father asked me if I would come and check on you. I think he wants you to get some rest.”

_She only came out here because Han asked her to. Of course._

“But if you decide not to, I still have a full day ahead of me so I need to try to sleep.”

“Go ahead. I won’t steal anything or hurt you or leave if that’s what you’re worried about,” Ben tells her. He looks to her and he can see a question on her lips, trying to voice it, but she can’t. He wonders if she’s going to ask why his father was nervous about that too and why he had asked almost frantically if he had the keys while he stepped outside. 

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she asks something else. “I have an extra bedroll. Sometimes, on colder nights I use them for blankets. But if we lay them out on the floor of the cave, it may not be as stiff.”

Ben thinks of declining and just staying out here, but he is exhausted from the whole ordeal. And as much as he wants to ignore his father, he can’t help but be concerned about him and how his condition is.

So he clears his throat and moves to stand up.

“Yeah. That’d be nice. Thank you, Rey.”

She smiles at him and Chewie follows after them. “Don’t mention it.”

* * *

The next morning, Ben wakes when he always does. Early blue light streaming in. Chewie at his side. But he’s not home and he’s not tied up in some trailer. He’s laying on a bedroll of a cave.

 _Rey’s cave._  

And she’s already up. He hears her around him and he sits up to see she’s pulling her boots on. Her arm wrappings were off as well as some of her other coverings and he realizes that she must have taken them off as she slept. 

Leaving her arms and collar bare. 

It’s not like it’s anything drastic. It’s not like he should turn away quickly with a blush on his face, but that’s exactly what he does. He feels like he’s invaded her privacy even further. 

One’s skin was their own. Skin was to be protected or the suns could burn deep. To see Rey exposed, ever so slightly, flusters him and he curses himself. 

She notices he’s up then and he can stop pretending to be overly interested in the floor.

“Morning,” she says standing up and wrapping her tan rags around her, ending Ben’s inner discomfort for now. 

“Morning,” he says back. Rubbing his eyes. “Are you...are you heading out?” He watches as she gathers her things and checking to make sure her gun is loaded and grabbing a long staff.

“Yeah. I’m going to go through the buzzards’ things. I can trade them at the outpost.”

“Oh,” Ben sighs, realizing she was leaving. “Maybe I should come and see if my bike is salvageable.”

“Okay. Do you think your father is alright alone?”

“I’m fine,” Han states, making both of them jolt a little realizing he was awake this whole time. “Just leave me some water and pass me a book. I won’t be doing much anyway.”

Rey laughs as she looks around her stacks of books. “Well, what do you like? I have a collection of things.”

“Somethin’... you know what, just bring me a pile. I’ll peruse.”

“Okay,” Rey chuckles, grabbing a pile of about six or seven books and setting them beside the bed. “These should keep you company.”

“Thank you, Rey. Again, your hospitality is the best in the wasteland.”

“Oh, a true honor. Hard to achieve, that one,” Rey says sarcastically. Ben can’t help but smirk.

He moves over to his backpack, pulling out some of the rice and his canteen to set beside the books for his father. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Ben asks, unable to meet his eyes. They haven’t spoken since he handed him the keys and stormed out of the cave.

“Hey, I’m an old man. Things get sore sometimes but I’ll be fine,” Han says with his usual ego. It tells Ben that he’s deciding to pretend the words said last night didn’t happen. 

_Back to pretending. Great._

“Alright, then. You want to keep Chewie?”

“Nah, he’ll be restless without someone to follow around. You two take him.” Han tells him to take the dog but makes no mention of the keys still in his grip. He still doesn’t trust him to have free reign of the car but Ben isn’t surprised at this point. 

So, he just nods, tossing his backpack over his shoulder and following Rey out of the cave with Chewie inbetween them. Ben follows her back to where the cars are parked and now, in the early light of the day, he can see hers more clearly.

It was intriguing, to say the least. It was tall. Taller than the Falcon but still sporty looking. And Ben finds himself trying to find a word to describe it besides...pretty. But, despite the scratches and weathering the wasteland has inflicted upon it, Ben cannot deny that it is a _pretty_ car. He must be staring too long because she leans over from the driver’s side. “You know how to work one of these?” She teases, pointing to the door.

He gives her a smirk. “Shut up,” he says as he pulls the handle and Chewie jumps in ahead of him.

“Chewie,” Rey laughs. “Back seat, big guy.” She gets a lick on her face before the dog abides and Ben ducks in. 

“Thanks,” Ben tells her. As he sits in the seat, he can see further how the inside of the car was a similar state to her cave. Personalized and modified by her. And as he looks to the glovebox, he notices more of those shallow little scratches that she had on the wall of the cave. His head follows the marks up to the ceiling and sees what must be thousands riddled all over the metal.

Rey notices his inspection but doesn’t offer an explanation. Ben knows better than to impose further. She would have said something otherwise.

So, he watches as she starts the car, confused where her keys are. But then she presses a series of buttons and switches. He doesn’t see some of it as it’s blocked by the wheel but he watches in curiosity, regardless. Suddenly, the engine rumbles to life.

“How did you-?” Ben starts but she just smirks.

“Kill switches. The car goes nowhere without me. After a stint of losing my keys a few years back, I had to get creative.”

“That’s brilliant,” Ben tells her in awe.

“Shut up,” she says, mocking his earlier remark which brings another smile to his face. Maybe he wasn’t as bad at this talking thing as he thought he was. Rey didn’t ignore him or turn away or snap at him when he spoke like the handful of others he’s used to being around. 

It makes him forget almost completely how at this time yesterday he was roped up in the back of a Tusken trailer and on his way to being stew. 

Rey endeavors back down the pathway he drove up last night, but she does so in reverse. Her arm holds onto the shoulder of his seat as she keeps her head focused out the rear window. The pathway is narrow and rocky, making Ben clench his fists in uncertainty as they get close to the edges but Rey seems to know what she’s doing. 

“You do this every day?” He asks her. 

“Pretty much.” She leans closer to his side as she tries to crane her neck further. Ben tries to ignore the proximity as he notices how as they get to the bottom of the canyons, just how closely the rocks were getting on either side of the car.

“Sh-Should I be worried about getting crushed or..?”

Rey just chuckles, “Relax. We’re nearly there.” 

Ben hears what she’s saying but still gives a big sigh of relief when they ease off the hidden path and they’re back in the canyon just as the sun is beginning to rise. She hightails around and heads back to the site where she rescued them from last night. 

As the trailer and car come into focus, they see that a lone vulture has already started to pick at the dead buzzards. Ben’s never seen one up close but Rey doesn’t seem phased by it so he tries to do the same.

He’s trying to not be phased by a lot of things this morning, it seems.

* * *

Rey is rummaging through the front seats of the Tusken's car, finding a small collection of knives and guns, none of which seemed to be loaded. She pulls them out and carries them to the back of the trailer where Ben was groaning over his bike. 

His very trashed looking bike.

“I’m sorry, Ben.”

“It’s fine,” he says but Rey can tell it most certainly isn’t fine. She knows the feeling when something you depend on is essentially garbage. 

“At least your car is still in one piece,” she offers but seems to only make him go rigid.

He fiddles with the bike for a moment before speaking. 

“It’s not my car. It’s my dad’s,” he clarifies, still looking down.

Rey can hear well enough the tension surrounding the topic. He was a cautious driver from what she could tell last night but she could tell it likely was something deeper than that. “Is that why he didn’t want you to take the keys? He doesn’t like you driving it?”

Ben looks to her. Something sad in his eyes. The early light finally starting to show the sun and she swallows as she sees them glisten again. 

_Glisten? That word again? Kill me…_

“It’s one of the many reasons he doesn’t trust me, yes.” His voice is stern as he says this and Rey wonders if she’s gone too far with her questions.

“Sorry,” she mumbles.

“Don’t be,” he says immediately. “It’s not your fault.”

She nods at that, thinking it would be best to move on from this topic. She starts to catalog the weapons, discarding the ones that looked dirtier than the bottom of her shoes and covered in buzzard grime. Ben must be paying attention because his eyes light up when he notices something.

“Hey, that’s mine,” he reaches over and grabs the only loaded gun from the pile. He takes it, checking to see that it’s still loaded but there’s sand lodged in the mechanisms. “Of fucking course,” he sighs, knowing it won’t shoot. “I think there’s an extra box of shells in the Falcon. I had some in my backpack but they must have fallen out when we were taken. Otherwise, they would have used it instead of the dud they wielded last night.”

“Right. I saw that.”

“Yeah, that pissed me off pretty bad. But then you swooped in so I guess I don’t have to think about it. You’re a better shot than I am by the looks of it.”

Rey smiles again, continuing to sort the knives and things she’s found. She’s got a _keep_ pile and a _trade_ pile going. “But you had something going there. I saw how you knocked him down. You looked ready for battle right before I fired those shots.”

Ben shrugs modestly. “I guess I had plenty of determination not to get eaten and my training kicked back in.”

“Training?” Rey asks, curiously. 

Ben looks to her again. “Yeah, I uh...my uncle was a trainer, you know, like a kickboxing and mixed martial arts guy before everything got wiped out. He made sure from the early days I knew how to take care of myself.”

“Oh,” Rey nods. “That sounds useful. I usually have to get by with just whatever nonsense I can pull off. Not a lot of technique to it, I guess,” she says slightly embarrassed. 

Ben sighs. “Well, my uncle doesn’t exactly work out anymore and I’m not as spry with it as I used to be, but I could always show you a few things.”

She looks up to see he’s heavily focused on the parts of the dismantled bike again but she wonders if the pink in his cheeks was there a moment ago. She surely hadn’t noticed it until now. 

“I’d like that.”

She thinks she sees a small smile on his lips this time. “Good then. Maybe later.”

They load up the trailer as much as they can, hitching the buzzard trailer behind her car so that they could bring Ben’s bike into the outpost. Hopefully, they could trade it for parts at least and try to get something in return. The bike definitely had valuable parts that were in amazing condition. Much cleaner than anyone at the outpost was used to. 

They left the other car behind, the one the buzzards had been driving. They could try to strip it as much as they could and trade parts for food and water in the next few days, or, if it ran well enough, they could keep it around in case of emergencies. 

“Okay, you ready to head out?” she asks him.

He looks down at himself, wondering if he didn’t look prepared. “Uh, I think so. What is this place we’re going to again?”

“Niima Outpost. It’s run by that man Plutt I was telling you about.”

“The man who raised you?” She nods, not disclosing anything else but he seems to be a little baffled by this. “Is he...your father?”

“Uh, no.” Rey just shivers at the thought of Plutt being her father. But then again, he had helped her a lot growing up despite how mean he could be. Her real father didn’t even stick around.

But it sickens her that Plutt is the closest thing she has to a father.

“He just...well, he took me in when I got left behind. I can fit in places not many others can so he kept me around. Eventually, I needed to leave. He can be a mean bastard when he wants to be so just let me do the talking.”

Ben doesn’t seem to like the idea. “Does hurt you?” he sounds worried. 

Rey shakes her head, not wanting to get into it. “No. It’ll be fine. Really, Ben, I do this every day.” She looks at her hands, hoping that wasn’t a lie. There was the rare occasion that Plutt struck her across the face or when he sent her home starving with no food. 

But today should be fine, Rey tells herself. They had a lot of stuff to trade in and swap for. That wouldn’t happen today.

* * *

He chews his lip for a moment before nodding and stepping back over to the passenger side door. Rey lets Chewie jump in first so he can hop to the back. Rey slides in and pushes the button sequence to start the car and the engine roars to life. She turns to look over at Ben but finds his face is still twisted in concern. 

She offers him a small smile, trying to think of something to say that might ease his worry. But instead, her eyes land on the stereo in the back next to Chewie. 

“Do you like music?” she asks him.

“Music?” he looks to her confused. 

“Yeah, you know. Music.”

He shrugs a little. “We had a few records lying around but we hardly listened to them. They were pretty trashed after the years of rough use. I haven’t listened to them in a while.”

Rey smiles, reaching behind his seat to pull out a tin box, bringing it to her lap. “Well, in that case, I think we can afford a little music on our route today,” she says, sifting through the cassettes. “Oh,” she pulls one out. “I like this one,” she tells him. Rey reaches back for the stereo and brings it to the front, placing it in Ben’s lap and putting the tape in. “It skips a bunch on side ‘B’ but it still works pretty well.”

Rey works the controls a little and instantly, upbeat music starts blaring from the speakers and Ben jolts in surprise.

She takes a moment to just watch a see how he reacts before putting the car in drive and moving forward. She goes slower than usual with the added weight of the trailer hitched to the back. She nods her head to the music, admiring the music she’s heard so many times but she’s still slightly anxious to see what he’ll think about it.

_Ah the moon belongs to everyone_

_The best things in life they're free_

_Stars belong to everyone_

_They cling there for you and for me_

Ben gradually begins to smile and it makes her own grow wider. “What is this?” he asks. Rey passes him the cassette case and he takes it, admiring for a moment the picture of a man with a microphone before reading the faded print. “ _Sam Cooke at the Copa...Recorded live at the Copacabana, New York City, July 8th, 1964._ ” Ben nods his head to the beat. “It’s cool. I like it.”  
“Yeah, me too.”

He seems to relax a little bit and she glances over ever so often to see him looking out the window, the wind blowing in his hair. His fingers tapping to the music against his leg.

It’s strange, Rey thinks. She only just met this boy and there’s something very comfortable about him. 

 _Comfortable_ is the only word she can think of that describes what she’s feeling which didn’t make sense. Nothing was remotely comfortable in the wastelands. And a person certainly couldn’t be that. 

But Ben...Ben was something else. She didn’t know him at all, and yet she felt like she did. 

But then again, she knows she’s one to jump to conclusions and to label things when there was no substance to do so. 

Rey turns her attention back to the sands ahead, making the trip to Niima as she always does, except this time she’s in the company of a dog and a boy who managed to capture all of her focus.

So she tries to refocus on the music instead.

_Love can come to everyone._

_The best things in life they’re free…_

* * *

When they approach a strange place, littered with tents and rusty cars and scary-looking people, Rey stops the car and presses stop on the stereo still in his lap.

“Here?” he asks her, slightly terrified.

Rey chuckles a little. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

Ben scoffs but feels his face heating up. “But...this is the place? You come here every day?” He looks up to sign made with a mix of wood and steel which read: _Niima Outpost AKA Barter Town_

“Very charming, isn’t it?” Rey seems to fall in a line of tasks that look quick and practiced as she settles the car and prepares herself to step out. She grabs the stereo and shoves it in the back, hiding it beneath a blanket and grabbing two guns from the back, placing one in his lap. 

Ben holds it in his hands, looking to make sure it was loaded, which it was. He looks to her in question, wondering if he should plan on using it.

“Just a precaution,” she tells him. “Try not to start anything. Oh, and keep a close eye on Chewie.” Rey says this as she gives the dog a quick scratch behind the ears. “A lot of folks around here are hungry and crazy enough to try and grab him.”

Ben looks at her, waiting to see if she was joking but the previous day comes to mind and he knows that she’s right. Apparently, in the wasteland, people were not above eating a dog along with many other things. 

He looks down to his wrists still wrapped in gauze, blistered and red underneath from the rope. He had nearly been eaten himself.

But then Rey saved them.

Ben steps out, whistling to Chewie for him to jump out. He points to his boots so Chewie would know to stay close and he’s relieved when he does. Although the dog was well trained, Ben has been apprehensive ever since he walked right into the Tusken’s trap.

He’s about to ask Rey where they go first when he notices a large man barreling towards them. 

Ben tightens his grip around the gun but didn’t want to make that obvious. But then the man marches right past him and straight to Rey. She doesn’t seem too phased by this though and Ben watches, ready to step forward if she needs him. 

“What the fuck is that?” the man screams at her, pointing to the trailer hitched to the back of her car.

“ _That_ is my latest find.”

“Looks like buzzard cargo,” he barks, crossing his arms.

Rey crosses her arms too as if challenging him. “It is,” she says cooly. “My associate and I are here to trade it in and get some things in return. I would think you would understand the cycle of how things worked around here by now, Plutt.”

 _Plutt._ This was the man Rey had spoken of. The man who raised her and who knows what else. It does nothing for Ben’s nerves and he steps forward to get closer to her but she holds out her hand as subtle as she can, indicating for him to step back.

Ben halts where he is, but Plutt turns around then, taking a look at him. Ben takes a moment to look at his face and could have gagged. He looked slimy and almost swollen looking. His nose was enormous and Ben wonders if he’s been bitten by something. 

“Who’s this supposed to be? Your boyfriend?” Plutt laughs and his stomach bounces. It’s disgusting actually. 

Rey stomps so she’s standing in front of Plutt, acting as a barrier between him and where Ben was standing. “He’s with me, that’s all you need to know.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Less I know the better. As long as you’re still working for me and bringing stuff in, I don’t care who you mess around with.” Plutt looks to him over Rey’s shoulder, giving him a once over with a judgemental look on his bulbous face.  “Get to cleaning everything off and then I’ll take a look. But bring the car and trailer around back. You’re blocking the flow of traffic.”

Rey looks around to the sand around them. “What traffic?”

“Future traffic. Future customers! Now get moving!” Plutt shoves her back to her car, very aggressively. “And don’t sass me!” he bellows before stomping off, muttering to himself. Ben bites back a scream, wanting to chase him down and shove him in return. 

How dare he treat Rey like that. But Rey remains on her feet and nods over to the car, urging him to get back in.

He opens the door, Chewie jumps back in. Rey starts the sequence but Ben just stares at her. “That’s Plutt?” he asks through gritted teeth. “That’s the bastard that raised you?”

Rey just shakes her head, driving the car around to the back of the structure Plutt had marched out of. “Ben, I–”

“No. He shouldn’t treat you like that. He’s disgusting and vile and I–”

“Ben, I don’t have anywhere else to go. If I need food, if I need parts, this is my only option. Plutt is an asshole but I’m used to it. It didn’t hurt, Ben. Really.”

“You shouldn’t have to be used to it, Rey,” he tells her earnestly.

She doesn’t say anything at first. He thinks maybe she won’t answer at all but when she stops the car once again and the engine goes silent, she turns to him. “I know he’s disgusting but if it weren’t for him, I would have died a long time ago. I don’t have any other choice, Ben. I can’t risk upsetting him too much or I go hungry until he decides I’ve learned my lesson. That’s just the way things are. What I deserve or what’s right has nothing to do with anything out here...out here, everything is like this.”

She gets out of the car before he could say anything. He hops out, Chewie following him, and he makes for the back of the trailer where he could hear her unlocking the doors. He can see her eyes shine with unshed tears and he figures maybe it was best to just drop the topic for now. He didn’t mean to make her cry.

Maybe he just had this effect on people. Maybe he just made them miserable no matter what he did. She’s done nothing but help him and he wants to be better. He wants to try. 

She jiggles the lock, frustrated when it’s not opening and groaning in frustration. Ben reaches forward to help her, his fingers brushing past hers, taking the key from her gently to help her. She looks up at him, her eyes making his heart sink at the hurt that resides in them. 

“I’m sorry, Rey. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says, looking down at the lock and turning the key, relieved when he hears a click and the mechanism unlocks for them. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” she says quietly with a resolved sniffle. “Let’s just work quickly and get the hell out of here.”

He nods, feeling crushed by sudden despair. 

He didn’t know much about Rey, but given everything he’s gathered so far, he can only imagine how hard her life has been so far. And she took it all in stride. Nothing like him. He let everything get to him and he let it fester as he just got angry and lashed out. But Rey just did her best to survive and keep going.

It was only when he told her that she shouldn’t be treated like that that she got upset. 

Maybe he just really didn’t understand people and he was just making this harder for both of them.

His heart sinks a little, only wanting to help her but was screwing that up too.

* * *

Rey thinks that Plutt has cheated her yet again for everything she’s brought for him but she can’t be too bothered about it. It’s more supplies than she’s been given in hundreds of days. Hell, maybe it’s the biggest haul she’ll ever bring back.

She and Ben unhitch the trailer, loading the guzz, water, and portions as carefully as they can to maximize the small amount of space she had.

She and Ben had worked rather quietly all morning and afternoon. After what happened earlier, Ben seems to be keeping his distance and she wonders if she was supposed to make the first step in talking again but she didn’t really know how. She’s never spent much time around people, willingly.

So, she’s almost dreading the ride back to the canyon, wondering if it was going to be uncomfortable. But they have to face it. It was already getting too late in the day and by now she was usually nearly home but there were more things than usual to deal with.

So once everything is strapped securely to the roof of the car or tucked safely in the back seat and trunk, she ducks into the driver’s seat, beginning the start sequence, taking a deep breath as Ben opens his door, letting Chewie in first. 

The dog plants himself in the cramped middle seat but doesn’t seem too bothered. Rey pretends to be overly occupied as she tends to the controls this time, not sure how to have a conversation as she knows would probably be appropriate. That’s what book characters do most of the time.

But she wasn’t those characters. She was Rey and she was confused and lost as to where she stood with this boy she had saved from the harshness of the wasteland. The car sinks a little as he sits down and she stifles a chuckle. The added weight on the passenger side was new and Rey enjoyed it more than she probably should. 

It still didn’t help her think of what to say. 

So she just starts driving, off into the sunset towards home, trying to think of anything besides the boy next to her.

But then she nearly jumped out of her skin when he spoke first. 

“Can...can we listen to another tape?” he asks her hesitantly.

She looks at him, seeing the unsure look in his eye. He looked like how she felt and she wonders if he’s been going through a similar dilemma. 

“Y-Yeah,” she answers quickly, cursing herself for not thinking of that first. Music was a good middle ground. She reaches in the back, keeping her eyes on the sands ahead as she grabs the familiar box and sets it in his lap.

“Why don’t you pick something?” she offers with a smile and she hears him give a small chuckle that puts her at ease. 

Suddenly she feels foolish. She’s been blowing everything out of proportion and overthinking everything. But this is all so new and strange and she just trying to take it in stride. 

He sifts through the cassettes, trying to decide on something. 

These cassettes had been a rare find and although she loves the music, how she found them were a little more uncomforting. 

She had come across a large van with a strange graphic on the door almost completely buried in soft sand. When she finally managed to get inside the vehicle that was almost completely on its side, there were two skeletons tangled together on the floor.

After nearly retching and running away altogether, she decided to forge ahead and do what she had planned on. After all, now that she thinks about it, those were usual circumstances of how she found things. Although the wasteland had taken many lives, there were still hints of the things that people cherished before it took them.  

And it was there, among their supplies that she had found this tin box of tapes coated in a thin layer of dust, sitting beside an old tape deck. 

The tape deck didn’t work. There was too much sand in the speakers. But she took it anyway, using whatever parts she could to help repair the tape player in her car and with the help of several other things she had come across through the years, she finally got it working. And she knew the tapes were subject to die out do she treated each one carefully, trying to preserve the beautiful sounds they held. 

And although the wasteland held few true joys, Rey thinks music might be one of them.

So when she sees Ben looking at one of her favorites she beams. “That’s a good one,” she tells him, secretly hoping it influences him. And it does, he takes it out of the case and inserts it into the stereo.

As the music starts to play she bobs her head to the tune she’s heard so many times.

_Baby let's cruise, away from here_

_Don't be confused, the way is clear_

_And if you want it you got it forever_

_This is not a one night stand_

_Let the music take your mind_

_Just release and you will find_

Rey has heard the song so many times and she knows the words by heart now, but she’s never really thought to what the words might have meant. 

She suddenly realizes that it’s not just about listening to music while you drive home. There was something much more intimate about this song that makes her feel almost nervous with the boy next to her. But when she chances a glance at him, she seems the small smile on his face as he looks out the window, enjoying the music and the wind in his hair.

He likes it. 

And when the song ends, he looks to her a moment before speaking. “Can we hear that one again?”

Rey knows she blushes but she hopes that she’s red and sweaty enough that he doesn’t notice. “Yeah.” She winds it back, starting at the beginning.

And before Smokey Robinson’s voice starts again, she hears Ben say, “You’re right. This is a good one.”

He says it so softly and so sincerely that Rey could almost cry again, but not because she’s upset. She’s never heard anyone say anything so gentle before, especially about anything like this. Something from the old world that had nothing to do with this awful place. This wasteland.

For a moment, she tries to think of what it might have been like in the old world. A world where they might have been just two kids driving home on surface streets through those skyscrapers she's only read about but never seen. Or past the shore of an ocean that the world will never see again. Regardless of the impossibility, the concept makes her smile anyway. 

“I’m glad you like it.”

_You're gonna fly away, glad you're goin' my way_

_I love it when we're cruisin’ together_

_The music is played for love,_

_Cruisin’ is made for love_

_I love it when we're cruisin’ together._

That’s the only song they listen to on the way back and Rey feels like she’s somehow just hearing it for the first time all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those that are sticking around, thank you so much for reading<3!!!


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